


Five Times Murdock Confused the Checkout Clerk (And One Time The Clerk Confused Him)

by srmarybadass



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Multi, Poly, gratuitous use of noodle implements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-26
Updated: 2012-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmarybadass/pseuds/srmarybadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for the prompt: Something ridiculous with Murdock and cooking, preferably Murdock/Sosa/Face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Murdock Confused the Checkout Clerk (And One Time The Clerk Confused Him)

The checkout clerk's name was Billy. He was sixteen, and he really wanted a car, which was why he was slaving away for minimum wage at the Fun Foods Supermarket. He was pretty sure the cash register was sucking out his soul.

And here came a customer.

"Welcome to Fun Foods Supermarket," he droned. "Able to find everything?"

"Just about," the man with the manic eyes replied, grinning. "Well, your selection of marinade sauces was rather slim. I almost had to go with car wax."

Billy blinked, stunned out of his bored daze by the craziness of this particular dude in a rather garish Hawaiian shirt. He actually looked down at the items he was beeping through. Pasta. Fresh oysters. A box of chocolates. The most expensive bottle of wine the store offered. 

"Planning a romantic evening?" he found himself asking. Heck, it was the first customer he'd had in over an hour, he was entitled to talk to him. Plus, he was confused.

"A seduction," the man corrected. "Two, actually."

Now he was even more confused. Billy beeped through a six-pack of Corona, three limes, a shaker of salt, and a bag of Doritos. What kind of seduction could be accomplished with these items, he had no idea. He rang them up.

"Your total is-"

The man slid a card across from him. "The boss-man gave it to me. Should be good."

The card, once scanned, informed him that it belonged to one Murray H. Docker. 

"Thank for for shopping at Fun Foods, Mr. Docker," Billy said, bagging the last of the groceries. 

Mr. Docker winked at him. "My friends call me Murdock."

Billy had known this guy for all of two minutes. But then again, who was so rich as to throw away a friend?

"Good luck with your, ah...evening, Mr. Murdock," he said. Mr. Murdock grinned and waggled his eyebrows before prancing out the store with his recyclable bags. 

God, the freaks always came through _his_ line.

****************************************************************************************************  
He came in again three months later. Billy was idly doodling on a spare roll of registry paper when a startlingly familiar southern accent approached him from behind.

"Excuse me? Is this organic?"

Billy whirled. "You!"

Murdock blinked, and grinned. "You!" He looked closer, at the clerk's nametag. "Hey, your name is Billy! I have a dog named Billy."

Billy nodded gamely. "What breed?"

"Invisible."

Billy blinked, confused. _Okay._ "So what can I help you with this evening, Mr. Murdock?"

Murdock held up two packages of chicken. "Which one of these is organic?"

Billy took them and examined them. "This one, the one with the sticker. It marks all of our organic meat and produce."

Murdock nodded. "Thanks. I really don't care much myself, but you know how it is, with date night and all."

"Yeah, my girlfriend likes to eat organic too. She's always worried about how the chickens and cows are being treated and stuff."

"Oh, Charissa doesn't care about that either way. She goes hunting on the weekends. Once she brought back a bear." Murdock grinned at the memory. "But Face, he's always counting his calories. I guess organic food is healthier."

"I think so," Billy said, and asked his next question carefully, full of curiosity even though he was pretty sure his manager wouldn't like him talking with the customers about stuff like this. "Did your plans last time work out, then?"

Murdock nodded and grinned zanily. "They did. Very well. I got them exactly where I want them, and now I just have to keep them there by cooking." He held up a cantaloupe. "I'm making a fried chicken-and-melon scramble."

"Sounds...delicious." Billy began checking out the purchases, which included a watermelon and a honeydew, as well. "Do you cook for them often?"

"Oh, all the time. My girlfriend's crazy for it. So's my boyfriend. I can't say my boss cares much for the state we usually leave the kitchen in, but he makes Face clean it, so I guess it's okay. He thinks that everything is Face's fault."

Murdock had an incredibly sly smile on his face. Billy found himself grinning as well. "But you're the real puppetmaster?"

"Like a marionette." Murdock danced his fingers around as if he were pulling strings. He paid for the groceries -- this time in cash -- and tipped his hat jauntily before skipping out the door. Billy shrugged. Weirder people had come through his line. He just couldn't remember when.

****************************************************************************************************

The next time he saw Mr. Murdock, the guy all but tackled him as he was minding his own business and stacking canned goods.

_"Billy!"_ Murdock yelped, unable to stop his momentum as he crashed into the very confused teenager. "Billy! You've gotta help me!"

"What's wrong, Mr. Murdock?" Billy replied, worried. The man did look honestly panicked, although on the whole his appearance was rather panic-inducing -- he had a baseball cap on backwards, mismatched Crocs on his feet, and was wearing what appeared to be an undershirt and pajama bottoms.

"They've gone crazy," Murdock babbled. "Crazier than me! Well, probably not, but they're crazy nonetheless. It's Charissa's time of month and I think it's Face's too, and they're both freaking out, and the emotional swings are making me antsy, and I just want to get them to calm down, and-"

"Wait," Billy said, confused. "Isn't Face a guy?"

Murdock nodded.

"And they're both...PMS-ing?" 

Murdock shook his head. "It's gone far beyond that, I fear. When I finally made a break for it, they were alternating between punching stuff -- I think the wall has holes now -- and sobbing over chick flicks. Please, Billy, you've gotta help me! There's gotta be something I can feed them!"

Suddenly, Billy the lowly checkout clerk felt his slumping spine straightening up. His gum-chewing jaw hardened, and his eyes gained a purposeful gleamed. A customer had asked for his help. This was what he was hired for. This was what he had gone through a grueling three-hour orientation for. He was the supermarket soldier, ready to lead, ready to march forth. A customer had _asked him for his help._

The fact that it was his weird semi-polygamist, definitely-off-his-rocker customer just made it better.

"I can help you, Mr. Murdock," he declared, and Murdock's face split into a wide grin at the authoritative tone in his voice. "Have either of your -- ah -- significant others been craving chocolate?"

Murdock nodded frantically. "That's what I was sent out for. I think." He paused and scratched his head. "Or was it alcohol?"

"You'll need both," Billy informed him, already striding purposefully down the aisle. He reached the liquor section and pulled out a bottle of Kahlua. "Take this." He next led them to the bakery, where he handed Murdock a package of two dozen freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. "And these. Do you need anything else?"

On their march through the store, Murdock had grabbed a package of gummy worms, one eggbeater, and a package of "feminine hygienic products."

"Nope," he declared, a sense of relief rushing through him. "Nope, I think that'll do it."

"Then let us proceed to the checkout," Billy said, and they proceeded. He rang up the groceries and handed them to Mr. Murdock. "Your groceries, sir. Have a nice day."

"Yes, sir!" Murdock barked, saluting Billy before turning and hustling out the door. 

_Well_ , Billy decided as he resumed his regular position leaning against his register. _Who says checkout clerks can't be superheroes?_

*********************************************************************************************

"Why, hello there, Billy-who-isn't-my-dog!" came the now-familiar accent.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Murdock," Billy greeted politely, putting aside the newspaper. The headline had something to do with a drug gang being mysteriously busted, and he wanted to read the article, but it could wait. After all, he had to check out a customer. "How are you today?"

"Just dandy," Murdock grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Billy noticed that he was dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and slacks, rather than the more...interesting...ensembles that he had worn to the store previously.

"Got any plans tonight?" he inquired, scanning the items through. A large wooden bowl. Three bags of sour gummy worms. One package of lemondrops. One actual lemon. A bottle of Sprite.

"It's our anniversary," Murdock informed him. "Six months. Me, Charissa, and Face."

"Congratulations," Billy said, and he meant it. Two people being in a relationship for six months was tough enough. _Three_ people -- that was something special right there.

"Thanks," Murdock said. "Sometimes I can't believe it myself. But six months is a little long for a hallucination, even for me. I mean, the longest I've ever hallucinated was...oh, I think it was three weeks. They had me on some pretty strong stuff."

Billy nodded, a little confused. He scanned through a packet of firecrackers, a jug of antifreeze, a bottle of sparkling water, and a package of cilantro. "Are you...doing the cooking? Again?"

"Yep!" Murdock chirped. "Charissa went out hunting the other day and brought down a great big buck. I'm going to fry up some of the steaks tonight. And for dessert, my patented Zingy Zangy Zour Zalad. With all these materials." He gestured to the candy. And the lemon.

"My dad hunts," Billy commented. "What does your girlfriend use? Rifle? Semi-automatic?"

"Bow and arrow," Murdock said, and handed Billy a reusable, environmentally-friendly canvas bag. He bagged the groceries, placing the lemon on top, and handed it to Murdock.

"Have a good evening, sir," he said, with feeling.

"Oh, I will," Murdock replied, winking. And like that, he was gone, humming a jaunty little tune that reminded Billy of an old action series from the eighties that he used to watch re-runs of every Saturday morning.

Billy shrugged and picked up the newspaper.

**********************************************************************************************

Billy noticed the woman first.

It wasn't all that surprising. She was really hot. Tall, athletic, with a smoothly angular face and a gleam in her eyes that gave her an aura of danger and -- dare he say it -- badassery. He also noticed that she had a man on each arm.

Then he saw that one of the men was Mr. Murdock. 

"Billy!" Murdock yelped happily, dragging his little entourage over to Billy's deserted register. Not many people in a grocery store on a Tuesday mid-afternoon. 

"Hello, Mr. Murdock," he greeted respectfully. The other man on the hot chick's arm grinned at that.

"Hear that, _Mister_ Murdock?" he teased. "You've finally turned into your dad."

"That's not what you were saying last night," the woman said. The hunky guy shut up.

"Billy, this is Charissa, and this is Face," Murdock said, pointing to the man and woman respectively. "Charissa and Face, this is Billy the amazing checkout clerk who isn't my pet dog."

"I can see that, Murdock," Face said.

"Nice to meet you, Billy," Charissa greeted respectfully, shaking his hand. Billy nodded, slightly dazed. 

"Anything I can help you with today, Mr. Murdock?" Billy asked. 

Murdock shook his head. "Nope, I think we can find everything on our own. Family shopping trip, you know." He pointed to two other men who had just entered the store -- a large black man with a mohawk and a dude who was totally rocking the silverfox thing. "That's BA and Hannibal."

"Big family," Billy commented.

"Okay, everyone, split up and get what we need," the gray-haired dude Murdock said was Hannibal ordered. "I already divided up the list. Go get your items and meet back here."

"This isn't the army, Hannibal," Charissa said, amused.

"No, this is Sparta," Murdock said, and everyone looked at him before walking off in separate directions.

"Hey, Hannibal, why do I have to go get the tampons?" Face complained.

"The lists were assigned at random," Hannibal replied.

"Because you're the woman in this relationship," Charissa informed him.

"That's not true!" Face protested. "I'm totally a dude!"

"Being a dude and being the man are different," Murdock explained.

"But I have a _dick!"_

"So do I," Charissa pointed out.

Their conversation faded out at that moment, and Billy was left very confused. If this was the type of family Mr. Murdock had, then no wonder he was so crazy.

"Excuse me, son," a gruff voice said, and Billy turned to see Hannibal standing there. "Could you tell me where the eggplants are?"

"Back of the produce section, third shelf down, next to the cabbage," Billy automatically replied.

"Thanks, kid," Hannibal replied, stuffing a cigar in the side of his mouth. Billy almost protested -- he was pretty sure it was against store regulations -- but he didn't light it up, so Billy let it slide. "And what about the rubber gloves?"

"Aisle Five, on the left," Billy told him.

"Thanks." Hannibal walked off, and Billy watched to make sure he was headed in the right direction -- customers often got confused. He also saw him smack the rear end of the large, mohawked, very scary guy, who twitched slightly. "C'mon, sweetheart."

Billy thought he was very brave for doing that. Billy thought that BA was probably capable of snapping a guy like a twig without even trying.

He waited for a few minutes. Some suspicious noises were heard in Aisle Three, and a runaway, unmanned cart came zooming out of Aisle Eight, but other than that, the havoc was kept to a minimum.

Finally, after ten minutes, the motley crew gathered at his checkout and dumped their considerable load of groceries on his processing line. Smiling up at them to cover his nagging fear -- they really were rather intimidating folks -- he began scanning the items. He'd become quite adept at it over the past few months.

Milk. Eggs. Vodka. Peppermint-scented shower gel. Guacamole mix. Twizzlers. A bottle of Axe that he was relatively certain didn't belong to any of the men. Four boxes of condoms. Baking soda. A jar of habaneros. Moisturizer. Rubber gloves. A package of brownies. Two coconuts. A bag of rice. A loaf of WonderBread. A shaker of salt. A bottle of tequila. Six eggplants. A can of pears.

"It's for the partridge," Murdock explained.

Charissa made the shape of gun with her fingers. Then she mimed it going off.

"Sounds delicious," Billy said, and he was very proud that his voice only squeaked a little. He stuck the plethora of groceries in the reusable, environmentally friendly canvas bags Murdock handed him.

"Have a nice day," he said.

"You too!" Murdock said excitedly.

Billy watched them all leave, a jumble of groceries and arms being wrapped around various individuals and cigar smoke.

_Their family dinners must be so fucking weird,_ he thought to himself.

*****************************************************************************************************************

Almost a year to the day after he first met Mr. Murdock, Mr. Murdock showed up again, with his whole family.

"Morning!" he called out.

"Good morning!" Murdock greeted, as his boyfriend, girlfriend, father figure, and bodyguard filed into the store. It was a slow day, and not many people were in the supermarket, other than the staff. Everyone waved to him, and Billy grinned, waiting for whatever crazy order they came through with. This visit was sure to brighten up his day.

His smile turned to a frown as he saw a whole squad of police cars pull up outside, lights flashing. He bit his lip, worried. Nobody at the store had called the cops. Why were they there?

"Oh, no," he heard a moan. He turned. Mr. Murdock was staring out at the parking lot with a dawning sense of horror. "Hannibal! Hannibal, we've got a problem!"

Fortunately, his little family unit hadn't gotten far. They rushed to him as the cops got out and surrounded a large black van in the parking lot.

"My baby!" BA all but yelped. He would have rushed right out the door, but Hannibal held him back.

"They must have used her to track us," Face realized.

"Fuck," Charissa said eloquently.

"What's going on?" Billy asked, once again confused. 

"I'm afraid I've been buying groceries from you under false pretenses," Murdock told him, wringing his hat between his hands. "You see, I'm a federal fugitive. Well, we all are."

"I'm not," Charissa pointed out.

"Yet," Face told her. "They find you with us, you'll be in just as much trouble as we are, even if you did quit the army."

"Stupid fuckers," Charissa said. "I'd rather be a soldier of fortune anyway."

Billy looked to the group, who were scanning the exits, and out to the parking lot, where the cops were approaching, guns drawn. He made a decision very quickly.

He ran to the switch box behind the information desk and yanked the switch that killed the power throughout the store. Confused yells could be heard sporadically, but it served the purpose he had intended -- the automatic doors were now sealed. The police pounded against them, but he had bought precious seconds of time.

"Come on!" he said, already running towards the back. "Out the employee entrance!"

"What are you doing?" Murdock asked him, befuddled.

"Getting you out of here," Billy replied sensibly.

"But... _why?_ " Murdock was still, evidently, confused.

"Because it's my duty as a checkout clerk to take care of my customer's every need," Billy said. "They wrote that in the employee manual."

"Hannibal, we don't have a car," Face told their colonel as they reached the back of the store. Billy opened the door marked "Employees Only." It led to a small parking lot which led, in turn, to a series of small side streets.

"They got my girl," BA said bitterly.

Billy looked out at the parking lot. More specifically, at his car. He had only had it for a month and a half, and even though it was an old, beat-up, unobtrusive and very plain Toyota, he loved it. He loved it very much.

But then again, there was the right thing to do.

He fished into his pockets and pulled out a set of keys. He removed one in particular and handed it to Murdock.

"Take it," he said.

Murdock looked down at the key, realization dawning over the confusion. BA quickly grabbed the key.

"I drive, fool."

"We can't just _take_ it," Murdock protested.

"Oh yes we can," Face said. He turned to Billy. "Don't worry. I'll send you a new one real soon. Now, let's go, guys!"

"Thank you, son." Hannibal's face was serious and his voice was grave. He patted Billy on the shoulder and slid into the passenger seat.

"Much appreciated," BA grinned. "I'll take good care of it."

"I wish the military had more men like you," Charissa mused. "If it did, I might still be there."

"You are the best checkout clerk ever," Murdock told him, before getting in the car. He waved out the back window as Billy watched the Toyota peel out of the lot and drive off into the sunset.

Well, into the midafternoon.

Whatever, it was still sunny.

**********************************************************************************  
The next two weeks were very hectic -- what with the questioning by the police and federal government, getting fired by Fun Foods, applying to college, and everything else. With all that had happened after his brief but exciting encounter with the legendary A-Team -- now five members strong, according to the feds -- he had all but forgotten his car. That is, until he got home on that particular Tuesday and found, in his driveway, as if it had always been there, a brand-spanking-new Honda Hybrid -- sleek, swift, and fuel-efficient. He stroked the silvery outside, feeling almost weak-kneed. The keys were in the ignition. Billy opened the door and looked around reverently. There was nothing incriminating, nothing to identify who had put it there, but the ownership papers were in the glove compartment in his name, William Z. Krazinski. Billy grinned and turned around to see the back. His grin turned into a laugh.

There was an eggplant in the backseat.


End file.
